


3 AM Issues

by setos_puppy



Category: Kick-Ass (2010)
Genre: As in online RP, M/M, Roleplay, boys being dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-20 13:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setos_puppy/pseuds/setos_puppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave signs up for an RP forum as Kick-Ass.  Chris signs up for an RP forums as Red Mist.  They write together.  Then things get tricky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

This whole situation felt really awkward to be in. It was some serious Twilight Zone shit. Dave peered at his computer before rubbing his hands against the thighs of his jeans, staring at the screen with no small amount of trepidation. He was signing up for a Kick-Ass role playing forum. _Him_. Kick-Ass himself. This had to be some kind of record low because Clark Kent and Tony Stark did not attempt to make friends through an online chat where they played a shadow of themselves. 

He stared at his profile page, grimacing a bit at the fake alias he had given for “Kick-Ass’” name, age, and other weird bullshit they asked for. Like favourite song - seriously what? When it came to sexual orientation he wanted to laugh hysterically before clubbing himself in the face with one of his own batons. What did a super hero’s sex life matter? They solved crime, kicked butt, and had flawless life ambition. 

Then again, this _was_ a role playing forum. So maybe it was a valid question. Dave wasn’t exactly sure. Usually he left this kind of thing up to people who had WoW fetishes or liked slaying Orcs in their free time and thought tits were supposed to be the size of women’s heads. He worried his lower lip, wondering what he should put down. Maybe leaving it blank was his best option and seeing where the ‘story’ took him? Sighing he tapped his fingers anxiously against the keys. 

_Flexible_. There. Weird, but okay. It wasn’t him, right? It was some super fetish, online Kick-Ass, so his own sex life didn’t matter. Ha, take that logic!

Dave clicked on the submit button and watched as the screen loaded before displaying the finished page. He gave a wan smile, pleased with himself and then stared at the chat window in his corner. He’d made a user just for this, as per the forum’s instructions, and waited for a long moment to see it blink before laughing stupidly. He’d just signed up. Maybe he could work off some of his nervous tension by jerking off? It always worked the night’s before tests.

Opening a new window, Dave clicked onto YouPorn before peering down at his task bar when the small chat icon blinked and flashed. Wow. Looking up at the thumbnails for the videos, Dave heaved out a small sigh and closed the window down to see who was messaging him. 

Redmyst: Hey  
Redmyst: You there?  
Redmyst: You better be there you just posted

KickingAss: Yeh, I’m here.  
KickingAss: Nice to see a familiar ‘face’ around here. lol.  
KickingAss: Bad joke, sorry. So... Um... Hi.

Redmyst: Yeah, yeah, hi  
Redmyst: Can we not to the awkward meeting stuff for too long?  
Redmyst: Places to be, comics to read, you know how it is  
Redmyst: What are you interested in? 

KickingAss: Comics? What are you reading right now?  
KickingAss: Wait, forget I said that. Yeah.  
KickingAss: What do you mean interested in? This is my first... whatever. Rodeo.

Redmyst: Really? Rodeo? That’s what you’re going with? Fine, whatever  
Redmyst: I didn’t know this was your first time...  
Redmyst: But whatever, it’s fine. It’s not that big a deal  
Redmyst: There’s things called paras, because they’re longer and more in detail like paragraphs. Can be anything from just one to a page or something. More if you wanna be an ass and make someone read your fucking thesis  
Redmyst: Or there’s chat style, which is... well, fucking this.  
Redmyst: But the big question is: Are you doing this to actually roleplay Kick Ass, or are you just looking to get your rocks off?

KickingAss: The fuck dude!  
KickingAss: What do you mean? People use these as like... chatroulette or something? Fuck.  
KickingAss: I came here because I’m bored as shit and wanted to do soemthng new.’

Redmyst: Fuck, call down, asshole, your typing is slipping. No need to get your panties twisted  
Redmyst: I’m just the fucking messenger, okay? And it’s less chatroulette and more softcore romance novel porn  
Redmyst: In short, utter bullshit  
Redmyst: So fine, whatever. 

KickingAss: Oh, like those fanfics or whatever girls do. No offense or anything.  
KickingAss: Why are YOU here?

Redmyst: I’m a dude, thanks. Dick. All that jazz.  
Redmyst: The same, basically  
Redmyst: The hero stuff is interesting, so sue me. And not everyone feels comfortable running around in a costume, I guess

KickingAss: Same, same. So... How do we do this thing? Do I like... IDEK.  
KickingAss: Help?  
KickingAss: Fuck, brb, dropped my drink, fuck.

Redmyst: Fine, the rules, because people do fucking stupid shit in these places and I guess it’s up to me to make sure you don’t become one of them  
Redmyst: Not that I give a crap, but I’d rather RP with someone who at least sounds like they have a fucking clue  
Redmyst: It’s all third person stuff, and no controlling the other person’s character. I can’t make Kick-Ass do anything, and you can’t do the same to Red Mist. Any non-NPC fights don’t actually make contact unless the other person says they do  
Redmyst: Got it or should I repeat myself like the fucking Zelda owl?

KickingAss: Bak, sorry.  
KickingAss: All that makes sense. And no, that owl is annoying as fuck, stupid POS  
KickingAss: So, do you ever do the porn stuff or are you strictly here for the fighting and awesome dude-bro action that isn’t the naked kind?  
KickingAss: So I know what I’m getting into.

Redmyst: Just the action stuff  
Redmyst: So far, I guess. Not that I’ve run into anyone worth trying that shit with  
Redmyst: But if the opportunity came up  
Redmyst: I’d be better at it then most of these idiots

KickingAss: Just trying to figure out how buttsex factors into solving crimes is all.  
KickingAss: Maybe I’m just old fashioned  
KickingAss: Not that, like, Northstar couldn’t have awesome gay sex or anything but like... crime fighting is outside and sex is inside and... I dunno.

Redmyst: Please, like it has to fucking make sense  
Redmyst: It’s porn. Have you ever seen a porno that was like ‘yes, that makes logical sense’?  
Redmyst: And sex is ‘inside’? Wow, pussy

KickingAss: I’m mostly a YouPorn, free site guy, so y’know, amateur stuff.  
KickingAss: So, I guess my answer to that is no.  
KickingAss: I guess we’re supposed to keep our RL secret on here, huh?  
KickingAss: Hopefully ypu’re not a 60 year old pedo after my sweet teenage ass.  
KickingAss: Anyway, let’s get this shit started.

Redmyst: Thanks for telling me what you jerk off too. That’s totally what I was going for here  
Redmyst: I’ll just leave now that I have that vital information  
Redmyst: And if I was a pedo I could still do better, just sayin’  
Redmyst: Anyway, fine. I’ll start  
Redmyst: Red Mist tapped his fingers against the wheel of the car, only moving them away to impatiently brush the loose strands of hair out of his face. The crimson streaks were fake, to help keep his identity a secret during the light of day, and thus they felt scratchy and weird whenever they brushed his skin. Kick-Ass was late to their meeting place, for whatever reason - Red Mist didn’t really care except that he was impatient to get going. But it was rude to be this late, and he was going to give the green-clad boy so much shit when he showed up.  
Redmyst: (And now you)

KickingAss: (dude, what the fuck, I am not a boy!)  
KickingAss: Kick-Ass panted as he half ran, half limped his way to the car. He ran into a particularly nasty baddie on his way to the meet with Red Mist. He’d been doing some recon for a villainous figure that was lurking in New York and it seemed one of his goons had caught up to him. Falling hard against the side of the car he yanked the door open and fell inside, hissing in pain as his ankle throbbed. Cracking his eyes open, he looked over at his crime-fighting partner and smiled thinly. “Hi.”

Redmyst: (So what? Kick-Ass is the fucking teenager)  
Redmyst: “Shit, dude, where the fuck have you been? It’s been like half an hour?” Eyeing the slightly broader partner, he grimmaced. “What the hell happened? You look like something the cat wouldn’t bother to drag in.” Red Mist wanted to ask why he hadn’t called for help, but stopped himself. Kick-Ass should be able to take his own damn fights, and it wasn’t like they were in each other’s cell phones. Shaking his head, he turned on the ignition and pulled into traffic, eyeing the rearview mirror in case anyone was tailing them. If they were, he could lose them, but it was more difficult in his car then was worth the effort. “Are you still on for patrol tonight, or do you need to go home and nurse your boo-boos?”

KickingAss: (I bet the real Red Mist is less of an asshat)  
KickingAss: Kick-Ass shook his head, wiping the sweat from the edges of his cowl as he buckled himself in. They rounded a corner and were greeted by cheering teenagers and adults and he couldn’t help but give them a friendly wave. He had thought about finding a way to contact Red Mist when he was getting bashed in, but the only way he knew was through his website. They needed to get disposable phones or something. This shit was inconvient

Redmyst: (It’s not like you’ll ever get the chance to know)  
Redmyst: As they passed, a pair of gorgeous blondes flashed Red Mist, and he shot them a smile that made them swoon. But the life of crime fighting waited for no hos, and so he hit the gas and got out of the crowd. After all, it wasn’t like lowlifes hung out among their adoring fans, numerous as they were. Soon they were in the darker, danger parts of town, where the street lights flickered like a toddler was playing with the switch. It was quiet for the moment, but no doubt not for long. Their life was one of action.

KickingAss: Kick-Ass wondered if he should say something about the flashing girls, but quieted as he thought about what Tony Stark would say. His ankle was still hurting like a bitch and he wondered if agreeing to come on patrol was a good idea. It wasn’t like his home life was much better, anyway. Fighting crime was an escape from the mundane boredom of life and his shit home. 

“So, uh.. I was thinking.. maybe we should get like, a lair.”

Redmyst: (So, what, he’s Peter Parker in this?)  
Redmyst: Parking the car in a good looking spot, nevermind that it was no parking for another hour, Red Mist nodded slowly, and then with growing enthusiasm. That would be awesome, and it would be a better way for people to reach them than just a webpage. Plus, they’d be prepared for anything if they had a better place to store stuff. “Sounds good. I can arrange something no problem. Any place it should be near? So you can get to it, I mean.”

KickingAss: “Yeah? Awesome! It’d give us a place to chill after battle.” Kick-Ass rolled his seat back, rolling his aching ankle and wincing when it gave a loud popping noise. “We should get it somewhere secure and secluded. Maybe near the Bridge? There’s a wearhouse district out there.” He toyed boredly with his gloves before pulling them off to flex his fingers, hissing through his teeth when he saw a swollen and reddened knuckle.

Redmyst: Dark brows jumping up in surprise at the wound, Red Mist gave a solemn, knowing nod. He’d been there as well. It wasn’t easy to be a hero, and generally left them both tired and sore and craving it the next day, like some kind of fucked up drug. “Look, if you’re that hurt then go home. I don’t want to go out there thinking I can rely on you if you’re going to collapse. I’ll even drive somewhere closer to wherever you live if that’s easier.”

KickingAss: “A true hero never reveals his identity.” Kick-Ass replied, shooting a glare in his partner’s direction. He shoved his gloves back on his hands and made them into fists. “I’m fine.” He got out of the car, pulling out a baton and waited so he and Red Mist could take some of these fuckers down.

Redmyst: “That’s why I said near, idiot,” Red Mist snapped back. Of course he knew that, and Red Mist was aware that Kick-Ass knew he knew that too. Cracking his knuckles, he stared down at the group of thugs up to no good, scanning them quickly for any information. They didn’t seem affiliated with anyone - just a group of jackasses looking to give the public a hard time, and there was no way either of them could stand for something so heinous. “I call the bald one in the vest.”

KickingAss: Without any further information, Kick-Ass strode toward the group with a determined look on his face, ready to crack some heads. The group glanced toward him and they shifted uncomfortably before one of them yelled something out in Spanish and launched toward him. Jumping back from the blade, Kick-Ass struck quickly, taking the thug down with a hard knock to the temple before charging at the next guy.

Redmyst: Following after at lightening speed, Red Mist jumped up and gave a spinning kick to the temple of the guy he’d picked out. He fell to the ground with a sickening thump, and Red Mist gave a vicious, snarling smile. That’s what criminals deserved. Another one came up behind him, but he was too fast for that, ducking below the punch and twisting to kick the guy’s ankle’s out from under him. While Kick-Ass was occupied with the thug he was after, another guy was coming around behind him as well. “Head’s up!”

KickingAss: Kick-Ass whirled, doing a backwards headbutt into the guy he’d originally picked and kicked off the ground to kick the second guy in the stomach before managing to land on his feet in the pile of fallen men. He wiped his mouth and panted raggedly, ignoring the pain in his leg for the rush of confidence and excitement. He offered a hand to Red Mist to shake on a job well done.

Redmyst: Clapping their hands together, Red Mist squeezed it back and pumped once, the gesture manly. “Not bad for being beat into a pulp,” he replied, keeping his own breath steady with just a little effort. “I think that’s it for tonight. The police will be here to clean up these lowlifes soon enough.” He kicked the head of one of them as a point, and the thug gave a pathetic, whining whimper. “Want me to drop you off in the meetup spot?”

KickingAss: Looking down at the scum before looking back up at Red Mist, Kick-Ass nodded. The meetup spot was in a pretty central location. Maybe he’d grab a slice before heading home. When he got back to the car, he sat in his seat quietly, wondering if Red Mist’s life was anywhere near as complicated and shitty as his. Probably. Most heroes had something they were avenging or atoning for.

Redmyst: The silence got heavy, and Red Mist frowned at the street. The crowds were gone now, which was a shame, since at least it would be better than this, even if they could get embarrassing at times. “You okay, dude? No concussions or something, right? Maybe lay off the headbutting tomorrow if it’s gunna put you out like this.” He knew that probably wasn’t the reason - they both hit buildings every other night, so a single hit to the head wasn’t going to stop them - but it was either an excuse to talk or to not talk. Red Mist wasn’t a man of outward emotions, but for a partner he’d make an exception.

KickingAss: Kick-Ass nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about life is all. I was thinking about getting a slice of pizza and it made me realize that I’m kind of pathetic, you know? I’m a fucking superhero according to these people and I struggle with AP chemistry, an absentee father and I have no friends. Doesn’t exactly make me feel like a hero.” He shook his head, heaving out a sigh. He was probably saying too much.

Redmyst: Watching him for a minute, Red Mist shrugged. He wanted to say that his life was awesome. And from the outside it probably seemed like it. After all, you had to be a certain level of filthy stinkin’ rich to come up with a custom car just for crime fighting. “Yeah, well, sometimes having your dad around isn’t all great either. And to be fair to you, AP chemistry sucks. My teacher’s a total bitch who can’t even get the formulas right.” Overing a thin but comforting smile of his own, he opened his mouth to offer to maybe get the pizza together, but stopped himself. That was dangerous and stupid. Kick-Ass had said it himself. A true hero never reveals their identity, and Kick-Ass already knew more than he should. They had each other’s backs, because they were partners and partners stuck together no matter what, but who knows what could happen.

KickingAss: (This was pretty awesome dude, I think I’m starting to see what people saw in this type of stuff. I have to go though, since I have homework and a test tomorrow. Ugh, kill me in the face.)

Redmyst: (Not bad for your first time, at least. And, yeah, okay. I’ll see you later, maybe.)

As KickingAss went idle, Chris rested his chin in his palm and scrolled back up, re-reading it, focusing a little more on his parts then the other person’s. Part of him was congratulating him on such a good introduction to RPing, but another was looking for things he could have added or taken out. Once he’d gone through it again, he leaned back to tap his fingers against his Red Mist mask.

That had been surprisingly fun. He’d originally found RP while looking for people talking about Red Mist, craving the adoration and composing replies to the idiots who thought he was just a Kick-Ass poser. Two days ago, he’d come across an already existing RP and only read a few before deciding he just had to do it too. After all, who could play him better than himself?

The last person who had played the Kick-Ass to his Red Mist had been a complete idiot, casting him as some sort of teary eyed girly-man, and expected Chris to start cooing over his every wound and hurt. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Luckily this last guy had been a million times better, focusing on the action and the blood instead of the sappy shit. Sure there had been some, but every good hero had some stuff like that. It was engaging rather than simpering.

Checking the time, Chris frowned when he noticed it was approaching 1 AM. When had that happened? Time flew strangely fast during those back and forths, especially with the little breaks to let KickingAss reply.

Flipping over to Kick-Ass’s site, Chris typed in a quick message to meet him tomorrow. After all, KickingAss had said he had a test, so he might not be on after, so it was a good time to go patrolling. It would be weird if people started to notice he was offline when Red Mist was out and about. Then again, people were fucking idiots, so he was probably just being paranoid.

Biting his lower lip, Chris hesitated before opening up the bookmark to the site he’d first come across. That one had been like the one he just started, except that it was a lot further along, and... Well, Kick-Ass and Red Mist were fucking in that one.

It was stupid to do this, but Chris figured it didn’t matter much. He could keep his cool around Kick-Ass, no problem. It was just a bit of stress relief, and it was porn. It didn’t mean he liked him or wanted his ass or anything. It just meant he was a teenage boy who had come across something that happened to get him off.

Popping his fly and pushing away the part of him who felt weirdly guilty - hell, Kick-Ass should feel honored if he found out anyway - Chris wrapped a hand around himself and started over from the beginning, where Kick-Ass and Red Mist were just coming back from patrol.

***

Wednesdays could officially kiss his ass. He’d totally bombed his AP chemistry class because Katie was sitting diagonally in front of him and she’d been wearing this top... Heaving out a breath as he kicked his bag into the corner of his room by his dresser, Dave made his way to his laptop and threw himself in his chair and booted up. Redmyst wasn’t online and he felt both relieved and sad; the guy was kind of a douchebag, pretentious in a way he didn’t find the actual Red Mist. The guy was a bit of a brat, but he still danced with him and they could talk about comic books when patrols were slow. Dave got the impression this guy didn’t like to do that. 

Opening up his Myspace and Twitter, Dave skimmed through things before clicking closed and checking Kick-Ass’s site. A message from Red Mist popped up and he smiled happily, clicking it open and skimming it. He wanted to meet for a patrol. Dave sort of felt like declining, his body still ached from the last brawl they’d been in, but every day he spent at home was another day with criminals on the street. Replying back that he’d meet him around eight at their usual spot - it was just a few blocks north of Atomic Comics - Dave pulled up his email.

Todd had forwarded him a bunch of stupid, shitty chain emails that he deleted without bothering to open and he clicked on one from Katie. Skimming through it he suppressed a groan. She wanted the two of them to have a spa day soon and a ‘girl’s night’. He was really starting to hate his plan of playing gay. It was starting to get confusing in his head - especially considering what Redmyst had said about people writing them fucking. It was doing weird shit to his brain. Still, he tapped out an affirmative reply before closing the lid on his laptop and making his way over to his bed, throwing himself on it as he turned on his TV.

Flicking the channels, he stopped on a Deep Space Nine marathon and stretched out in bed, wiggling and curling his toes until they cracked, Dave oozed into his pillows. Listening to the commercial jingle, Dave was asleep before the show tuned back in, 

***

Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Chris brushed his fingers through the fake Red Mist hair and tried not to feel any deja vu. It wasn’t working. When he’d written that Kick-Ass was thirty minutes late, he hadn’t thought it would happen. He didn’t get attacked, right? Because the rest of the world thought they were cool and competent, but Chris knew better than anyone how utterly not prepared they were for this. Well, at least he was, much as it burned to admit it. The big missions they’d gone on together and mostly been staged, until his dad had gotten sick of letting his guys get beat up for a cover story. Kick-Ass was the one who actually went into these things with any expectation of reality, and Chris wasn’t sure if that made him more of an idiot or a hero.

Probably the former.

Just as he was starting to wonder if he was actually in a comic book, and his computer was magic, Kick-Ass ran around the corner, tugging his gloves on and hopping into the passenger’s seat, panting like he’d run... however far he started from the meetup place. Chris ran his eyes over him once, scrutinizing for any sign of injury, just in case. While he didn’t want to have accidentally gotten Kick-Ass’ ass kicked, having an all powerful magical computer would be pretty fucking sweet. “Where the hell have you been? Got chased by thugs or something?” He added a little extra sneer to his voice, which was harder in person then separated by a computer to a rookie RPer. After all, if Kick-Ass got pissed at him, Chris could actually get _hurt_.

Shooting him an odd look through what little Chris could see, Kick-Ass shook his head slowly. “No? Fuck, I’m just running a little late. Sorry, got caught up in shit.” Kick-Ass looked away, and something about his posture was a little chastised. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Chris shot back immediately, managing to hide his defensiveness behind a layer of scorn. But that just made Kick-Ass give him another look, this one another kid of hurt. And, because he still wasn’t like his dad, even if Chris couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him, he backtracked like a coward. “I know you can take care of yourself, man.”

That perked Kick-Ass back up, and he nodded and leaned back in the seat, making is squeak as thick wet suit rubbed against new leather. His lips quirked up, and Chris could just _hear_ the fart joke in his head. Dignity kept Kick-Ass from saying it, and it stopped Chris from laughin. He wasn’t ten, and fart jokes weren’t supposed to be funny anymore. Besides, they were superheroes. Super cool. Suave. “So, why did you want to meet up? Got anything good?” Kick-Ass finally asked.

Chris wished. It was somehow humiliating to tout around a stupid catch-the-lost-pet job after leading Kick-Ass to a group of thugs beating on some poor, ‘innocent’ man just trying to keep his business clean. But he also couldn’t just _not_ call him up without his dad going nuclear, so Chris was stuck with this stuff. “Well, most of the stuff I got was bullshit.” That at least was true. It was amazing how transparent the shit could be after getting caught the first time. “But there’s this.” He held up a flyer for Whiskers the cat, and hoped the mask hid the most of his embarrassment.

If Kick-Ass was disappointed by the job, he didn’t show it. If anything, his shoulders relaxed a bit, and Chris could understand that. Even the bruises from just running around showed up bright and obvious on his pale, otherwise unmarked skin. He’d never had so much worse than a papercut before he started as Red Mist, not counting the rare bruise from training with his dad. Nodding, Kick-Ass shot him a grin. “Let’s do it, then.”

Grinning back, though his was more of a smirk because that’s how cool guys smiled, Chris started the music and put the address into the GPS.

The drive to the lost cat’s owner’s neighborhood was a short one, and noticeably bereft of screaming fans and boob-flashing blondes. During the light of day it was cool to high five Kick-Ass or Red Mist, but when the sun went down suddenly people weren’t so keen to be seen with them. Cowards, all of them. Chris totally would have high fived a superhero at 2 AM with a gang breathing down his throat, if he didn’t have to keep his identity on the downlow. Nevermind that he could barely talk to anyone with the costume on, much less without it. Maybe Chris wasn’t particularly brave in his day-to-day life, but that was when the choices he had were dumb, like not speaking up when kids at school got mugged. After all, he didn’t get anything out of beating up cuntbags who couldn’t so much as graduate high school. And he didn’t have to - if it ever came to that, he’d set his bodyguards on them. But no sense wasting a perfectly good bodyguard on some nobody in the hall.

“Wait, stop here.” Kick-Ass’ voice made Chris startled out of his thoughts, and he hit the brakes harder than was probably cool. But Kick-Ass didn’t seem to notice, eyes set on the front of a particular store. “Let’s try here.”

Frowning at the empty parking lot, Chris wrinkled his nose, which he could do because the mask hid the gesture. “Why? I don’t see anything.”

Lips quirking up under the mask, Kick-Ass just snorted. “Trust me. Cats love this place.” He climbed out before Chris could say anything, so he just sighed and got out, locking it carefully behind him. His dad could get it back in less than two hours, but it would suck to have to call home and tell him he got the Mistmobile stolen. Kick-Ass walked straight to a billboard, and made the odd hissing noises that cats liked for whatever reason. After a few moments, there was a soft ‘meow’ in response, and Kick-Ass grinned. “See?”

How had he known that? “We still don’t know it’s the right cat,” Chris pointed out, not prepared to be impressed yet. Cool guys were never impressed, after all. They’d seen it all before. Just shrugging, Kick-Ass backed up a couple of spaces and then ran forward to jump. The first time he missed, but the second time he managed to catch the metal at the bottom of the platform.

Finally following behind him, Chris watched Kick-Ass dangle and kick his legs to try and get enough momentum to pull himself up. From this spot, the parking lot looked oddly familiar, but he couldn’t seem to place why. The thought distracted him long enough that when he looked back, Kick-Ass had managed to get his arms and torso over, leaving his legs to wiggle in the air for a minute before he pulled himself up the rest of the way and gave a pleased cry. “It’s the right cat. C’mon up here, man. You know how slippery these fuckers are.”

Kick-Ass wanted him to climb _that_? Hell fucking no. But he was being watched with such earnest expectation. There wasn’t a doubt in Kick-Ass’ mind that Chris would fail. And if he did, it would damage his reputation and hurt the mission. That was what made determination bloom in his chest, and definitely not the fact that Kick-Ass seemed to be the only person who thought he could do things.

Nodding, he took his own steps back, a couple more than Kick-Ass had taken. Then, schooling his face into an expression of nonchalance, Chris ran forward and jumped as hard as he could. After a heart-stopping moment of fear, his fingers wrapped around the metal of the base.

And then he kept going, momentum not miraculously stopped by the catch, and the shiny new leather of his gloves ruined his grip, making him do a sickening flip before landing flat on his back, knocking the wind right out of him.

Chris wheezed on the ground, curling up on himself as he tried to regain his breath. The sound of laughter drifted down from above him, and if Chris had the strength he’d grab a rock and _beat_ Kick-Ass’ fucking face in.

A few yowls and footsteps later, Kick-Ass dropped himself off the side of the billboard, hanging from the metal for a moment before letting himself fall. The cat was going wild, hissing and digging its claws into Kick-Ass’ arm, but as always he barely seemed to notice the pain. And Chris would love to figure out how he did that, except that he couldn’t just _ask_ , which was annoying. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah,” Chris managed, voice too wheezy to be convincing, and he furiously cursed the metal and his gloves and the cat and Kick-Ass and everything but _himself_. “Just fine.”

Still smiling, which was less annoying now that Chris could see it wasn’t mocking so much as _fond_ , Kick-Ass held out the hand that wasn’t full of cat for him to take, which Chris slapped away irritably. “I fell my first time too. Tripped a guy and everything. At least it’s not only me.”

Before he could snarl that it _wasn’t_ his first time, Chris turned his head and paused. From this angle, the familiarity was even worse, and... oh. “This is where that video was!” Kick-Ass nodded like that was obvious. “You... You were chasing a _cat_ before that?”

Now Kick-Ass looked embarrassed. “Yeah. It wasn’t exactly... whatever. Are you good?”

Nodding with more strength, Chris picked himself up. “I already said I was, so shut up.” Brushing the dust off his costume - black showed _everything_ that wasn’t blood - he shrugged. “Let’s go take care of the fucking hellspawn and get this over with.”

Giving another chuckle, which Chris wanted to punch him for less and less, Kick-Ass smiled and nodded.

***

After returning the cat to the very grateful owner who was a woman that was like a million years old and gave them cookies as rewards, Dave found himself pleased with a night’s work and getting crumbs all over Red Mist’s seats. Oatmeal chocolate chunk cookies were the fucking best thing ever. “I wish all crime fighting and cat saving came with cookies.” Fumbling with his bottle of chocolate milk, Dave tore the foil off with his teeth and spat it out the window. They were sitting not far from Greenwich and looking out at the Hudson. 

Red Mist kept grumbling about his leather seats, but he was also pretty content with his own cookies - except he was pairing them with pot instead of milk. Dave watched him for a moment as he licked chocolate from his teeth and offered up his drink politely. “Trade you for a toke.”

Red Mist’s eyes shot up in surprise since Dave always turned him down before nodding his head with a thin smile. “Sure. Just don’t juice it, alright?”

Nodding even though Dave had no idea what that meant, he pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth to take the spliff. Holding it carefully between his thumb and forefinger, he inhaled before immediately sputtering and choking. “Fuck!”

Red Mist’s laugh was throaty and Dave watched him as he watched Dave from the corner of his vision. “Pussy.”

Scowling, Dave looked down at the joint. Challenge accepted. Raising the rolled paper to his lips, he sucked in the sweet, cloying smoke and let it furl into his lungs. He held it for a long minute before exhaling and oozing back into his seat with a smile, feeling slightly lightheaded and muzzy. Real life crime fighting was so much cooler than the douchey role player liked to pretend. It came with cookies. 

Trading back, Dave absently pulled his glove back on and watched as Red Mist flicked the joint out the window and took a long swallow of their shared chocolate milk. Dave hummed in content before leaning over to fiddle with the radio before getting his hands swatted back and the bottle shoved under his nose. Licking at the plastic rim to catch any fallen milk, Dave paused to glance at the bottle before realizing he hadn’t wiped it. Shrugging since it was too late now, Dave brought the bottle back up and bobbed his head along to the radio. 

Part of him wanted to make small talk, but it would probably fizzle out before too long. What were they going to talk about? Shoving the empty milk into the paper bag they had been gifted with, Dave stretched out on his seat and closed his eyes, letting the seat warmer soothe what few aches he could feel. 

“Dude, we should do this all the time. Like, fight crime and then eat food. Because fighting makes me hungry. And we should hang out more. And get a place to do it. Like... Like a batcave. Because we’re partners and we should do things together besides just see each other and then abandon each other. Rapport, you know?”

Dave opened his eyes to look at Red Mist only to get a wadded up napkin to the face as the other teen cracked up into laughter. “You are so fucking stoned and gay right now, oh my fucking God. You make it sound like we’re _married_. Do you want us to get a pet next?”

A frown twitched on Dave’s mouth and he sighed, licking the slightly sticky residue from his lips and rubbed his hands over his face through the mask. “Fuck it. Fuck you. Never mind.”

Red Mist’s laughter tapered off and he tapped his fingers along to the music as he stared. Then he started the engine. The rev of it broke the uncomfortable silence and he peeled back onto the road before Dave had the chance to grab his seatbelt. “What’s the sudden rush?”

“Remembered I have somewhere to be. Gotta go meet this chick.”

“Huh?”

Blinking slowly when he got a glare as they fishtailed around a corner, Dave felt his shoulder slam into the door. 

“You know, a sex thing. Booty call.”

“Oh.” That made sense. Red Mist had way more charisma than he did. Plus he had the car, and probably wasn’t sexually confused or pretending to be gay to get laid. “Well, kudos, man.”

Red Mist snorted and slammed the brakes, Dave jolted forward and was yanked back into place by his seatbelt. “Yeah. I’ll message you for our next patrol.” He hit a button on the dashboard and Dave’s door slid out and up, Dave fumbled gracelessly with his buckle before climbing out and barely caught the garbage Red Mist threw at him before the door closed and the car reversed at high speed. Dave stood awkwardly in the alley, blinking after the car before belatedly dropping the trash into a bin beside him and unlocking his bike to pedal home.

The hell had he done? Maybe Redmyst would be on when he got him to try and distract him from the jigsaw puzzle his life was becoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scenes from Chris' POV are written by myself, and those from Dave's POV are Setos_Puppy's. RPing as characters RPing is more fun than it sounds, especially when they're not that good at at. The chat style is stolen from the Homestuck skin, because it's for that purpose and I'm a lazy bitch.
> 
> To the people who follow me for TW: There's a fic I'm currently writing, although at a slow pace b/c school and this. There's also a Harry Potter one that's Neville/Harry if anyone's interested in that


	2. Chapter Two

The security checks for getting to his own fucking home were ridiculous as always, and it was a stupid amount of time later when he finally managed to walk through the door. There was muffled talking from his dad’s office, not quite blocked by the supposed soundproofing, which meant that there was a lot of yelling going on.

Chris should go report to him, but Dad always got so fucking pissed when he walked in when he was already steaming, and it wasn’t like anything had happened. They saved a fucking cat, ate cookies like 10 year olds and got buzzed on pot, the smell of which was still clinging to him. Kick-Ass still wasn’t the guy they were looking for, he still hadn’t dropped any other names and Chris still had nothing other than the knowledge that the way Kick-Ass looked, loose and sated from a buzz, made heat pool in his groin.

And, yeah, Chris would just as soon put off that particular talk, thanks very fucking much.

So instead he stormed into his room, which was ruined by the fact that no one was paying enough attention to him to notice and care. Slipping into the bathroom, he took a nice long shower to wash off the smell of pot. He didn’t think anyone would care - it wasn’t like pot was hard or anything, and if Dad said anything he was a lying dipshit of a hypocrite - but Chris hated the smell of it. It just gave him a headache and clung to everything forever. But Red Mist was cool, and pot was cool, so therefore Red Mist did pot. End of story.

Once Chris was back to being fresh and clean, he slipped into his silk pajama bottoms and settled behind his laptop. A quick check to make sure nothing had gone down and the Red Mist sight was still operational, and then-

Oh, the instant messanger was flashing. Heart in his throat, Chris clicked it and paused when he read the message from KickingAss, asking if he was on. Did he really want to do this right now? Even thinking too hard about Kick-Ass made his skin feel hotter at the moment, probably thanks to that stupid fucking pot. 

You know what? Fuck it. Fuck everything. He could control himself. It was just the pot and the porn messing with him. It didn’t mean anything, and he’d prove it.

Redmyst: Hi, on now. Sorry, out with friends. Wild night and all that. You know how it is.  
Redmyst: You still on or what?

KickingAss: Yeah. I’m here, just finished my homework, thought I’d see if you were up.   
KickingAss: Bored as fuck. Thought maybe we could talk or something, get to know each other better. Unless you’re opposed to that.

Redmyst: Just seems useless. Who cares? It’s not like we can’t lie or whatever.   
Redmyst: Besides, what’s it matter? It’s not like we’re here to pretend to be other people  
Redmyst: But fine, shoot. What do you want to know? 

KickingAss: I dunno. Where you live, maybe? Your age? tbh I joined this in a weird, stupid hope to make friends.  
KickingAss: So this is my desperate, hopefully non-pathetic plea.

Redmyst: 17, NYC, M. Wanna cyber?  
Redmyst: Sorry, that came out weird.   
Redmyst: look, no offense, but I don’t really want to talk about me much. That’s the reason I’m on here  
Redmyst: But what about you? Same questions. I guess it makes sense to know each other a little better anyway, so we know what to expect 

KickingAss: lol. 17. NYC, M. My name’s Dave, btw. Since you can’t just say ‘hey you’ since, y’know rude.   
KickingAss: I go to Forest Hills High, do you know it? Prolly not. There are like a billion schools here.

Redmyst: I could say ‘KickingAss’. Or KA or something. But fine, Dave.   
Redmyst: I’m Chris  
Redmyst: Forest Hills? Maybe. I might live too far from it. Hard to tell. A lot of schools, like you said  
Redmyst: I’m gunna regret asking this, but do you know Atomic Comics? You said you’re into comics and it’s the best place I’ve found in NYC 

KickingAss: Nice to meet you, Chris. Fuck yeah! I love that place.   
KickingAss: This chick from school buys me stuff from the bar and we talk comics. She’s looking to get into stuff.

Redmyst: Girl, huh? Looking for a fuck, are you? Geek girls are easy pussy, so good choice

KickingAss: She’s hot, and yeah, I’d love to bone her, but she thinks I’m gay. Long story involving getting mugged

Redmyst: If she thinks you’re gay then why the fuck are you bothering? Drop her for someone else, retard

KickingAss: ‘Cause she’s really fucking hot  
KickingAss: And she may have a point?

Redmyst: Hot levels stop mattering as soon as you can’t pound her pussy. That’s the rule  
Redmyst: I thought you said you were ‘flexible’ or whatever? So it still counts

KickingAss: I don’t know what the fuck I am anymore. Fuck dude, I think I’m having a orientation crisis.  
KickingAss: There’s this guy and I kinda like him but he doesn’t really give a shit about me. All I want is some hand on dick action. A hand that isn’t mine.

Redmyst: Same rule applies, but with assholes instead. Fuck ‘em or dump ‘em  
Redmyst: But if you’re not sure then why don’t you figure it out?  
Redmyst: That’s an offer, by the way  
Redmyst: Wanna cyber? In the RP I mean 

KickingAss: What about you? Are you... flexible?  
KickingAss: Also, if you’re offering to do this, what the fuck does that make you/us?

Redmyst: I reserve the right to experiment. I’m 17 years old and I want to fuck everything that looks like boobs or dick. Doesn’t mean I’m gay or whatever the fuck. Just means I’m a teenage boy.   
Redmyst: And it makes us nothing except that we weren’t already, ok?  
Redmyst: Don’t expect me to pull out the internet wedding ring and get down on my knees for you.   
Redmyst: At least not like that, and only after you do it first 

KickingAss: Should I be flattered? Poor wittle Chris doesn’t wanna have at me first? I think I’m offended and disgusted, to be honest. I am a hot chunk of change.  
KickingAss: Good to know it doesn’t change your feelings for me.  
KickingAss: Shame you weren’t here in person. 

Redmyst: Yeah fucking right. You probably don’t even blip on my hotness radar. Hell, you should be fucking crying with thankfulness to even get to think about my penis.  
Redmyst: Just wait to thank God until after. Not polite to talk with your mouth ful.  
Redmyst: Of course it doesn’t. Why would it? It’s like sharing porn, except personalized  
Redmyst: Why do you want me there in person for this? 

KickingAss: See above, re: hand on my dick that isn’t mine.  
KickingAss: Still, I think I’m going to take you up on your offer  
KickingAss: Scenario? 

Redmyst: Nowhere personal, obviously, so beds are out. I don’t think we can have your precious inside sex. Boo-hoo  
Redmyst: Backseat of the Mistmobile seems most popular if you’re into that  
Redmyst: Otherwise in can be in an alley or something.  
Redmyst: Frantic, adrenaline fucks can be anywhere if you try hard enough and don’t give enough fucks about catching something 

KickingAss: Shame, always hoped to lose my virginity in a bed. Backseat of a car doesn’t seem so bad.

Redmyst: Aww, your precious virginity is safe. Your daddy still has to cough up that dowry  
Redmyst: A little cliche but it works. Especially with the leather  
Redmyst: You want to try starting this time, or are you gunna be a pussy about it? 

KickingAss: Kick-Ass stretched out in the warmth of the car after the long run through Central Park in the frosty air of fall, the heat was welcome. He tugged on his mask, feeling slightly stifled before looking at Red Mist. Just last week they had divulged their identities to one another, but he was still nervous as being seen as the person below the mask. They were hidden in an old, abandoned parking lot, and he felt like his lungs were burning. Nervous, he reached up and pulled off the mask, keeping his head low and his breathing even.

Redmyst: Watching the movements from the corner of his eyes, Red Mist leaned against the door, posture casual and calm. Despite that, his heart rate was starting to pick up just a little. Somehow, wearing a mask and costume made removing clothes much more deeper a gesture in a deep way. Even just watching Kick-Ass taking off his gloves was something of an odd thrill, because it was a part of him no one else could see but him. Reaching over, the movement slow and controlled, he slipped a finger over and ran his thumb over Kick-Ass’ bottom lip, where the faint evidence of a healing bottom lip was just barely visible. “Does that still hurt?”  
Redmyst: (Do you want to take a stab at Kick-Ass’ name, or should I just use Dave or something?)

KickingAss: (Since this is self indulgent I figure we can use our own names, yeah?)

Redmyst: (Makes sense. Who knows, maybe one of us is right)

KickingAss: (Hah, wouldn’t that be awesome? It’s gonna feel weird using my name, but kinda cool)  
KickingAss: Looking over, licking at the dried blood from his split lip, Dave could still taste the faint bitterness of blood. He shrugged a shoulder and sighed softly. “Kinda.” He looked down at Red Mist’s glove and jerked his head away with a slightly embarrassed smile. “Still a bit tender, and your gloves kinda hurt. But thanks for asking.”

Redmyst: One brow rising, Chris pulled his hand away and slowly pulled the glove off, throwing it into the backseat with a snap. It was ridiculous to wear just one glove, so he yanked off the other instead, before repeating the gesture, just as softly as before. No sense actually making the lip split back open, after all. It’d get on his seats, and Chris hated it when his seats got bled on. Cleaning them was a bitch. “That better?

KickingAss: Dave laughed but the sound got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly before nodding his head. “Yeah.” He watched Chris for a moment before moving his hand over to pull off the stupid spiky wig and throwing it away. It was all askew now, anyway. Besides, he liked the colour of Chris’ natural hair.  
KickingAss: (Preference for your fantasy hair color?)

Redmyst: (Short, black, normal cut with bangs. Nothing weird. What about you?)

KickingAss: (Kinda embarrassing, but jewfro)

Redmyst: For a second Chris frowned, because he liked the spiky hair, even if it felt weird sometimes. But that wasn’t important when there were more important things, and people, to do. Peeling off the lightening-styled mask, he let it aside with more care than the rest of it, and gave Dave a slow smile, the flecks of brown in his otherwise dark eyes showing from the black smudged around them. Sliding his fingers into the back of Dave’s curly hair, Chris pulled him a little closer, and leaned forward the rest of the way. He licked slowly over the bottom lip, tasting the salt of skin and just a little copper from the dried blood, and then arched the brow again. “How about that?”

KickingAss: “Better. Different, but better.” The pressure hurt a bit, but it hurt in a way that was kind of good. Dave leaned forward a bit, studying Chris’ eyes for a long moment before pressing their mouths together. He’d thought about doing this since the first time he’d seen Red Mist, and now it was hard to believe it was actually coming true.

Redmyst: Fisting his hands into the shamrock green suit, Chris slipped his tongue into Dave’s mouth, letting himself map out the territory. There was a tooth that felt a little loose from all the times he’d been punched, no doubt, and Chris couldn’t help but push just a little. But only for a moment and then he moved on, focusing on tongue against tongue and lips and lips and the heat pooling in his stomach. He’d tried to hide how much he fucking _wanted_ the curly-haired male for so long, burying it under other girls and other boys and nights spent jerking off to anything else that it just made him taste all the sweeter now. And Chris had always had a sweet tooth. “Backseat has more room,” he offered, voice a low rumble against Dave’s lips.

KickingAss: It was a bit of an awkward shuffle with his gangly limbs, but Dave managed to wiggle his way into the back seat and haul Chris with him. He tugged eagerly at him and bit at his mouth as he splayed out. His fingers grappled over the hard, black leather of Chris’ suit and he made a needy noise.

Redmyst: Fuck, that was hot. Chris wanted more noises like that. And what he wanted he got. Sliding his hands down the front of Dave’s suit, pressing hard so he could feel it through the thick fabric of the suit, he reached back and detached the cape with a rough tug, not caring if he ripped it. He’d get a new one. Later. When Dave wasn’t fucking spread out in his backseat like a date on prom night. Breathing into his mouth, Chris tasted blood, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or Dave’s and he didn’t care. So long as they didn’t stop kissing. “How the fuck does this shit come off? You have five minutes before I get a knife and _cut_ it off.”

KickingAss: It was getting really hard to think. Dave pushed at Chris until the other boy slid off of him slightly and reached behind himself it took a bit of scrambling with eager fingers before he finally gave up and turned, rising on his knees so Chris could reach the zipper at the back of his outfit and pull it down. He was feeling overheated and trapped and he knew Chris could help.

Redmyst: He’d always imagined that Dave had to be mostly naked under the suit. After all, the thing was pretty fucking tight, and it didn’t leave that much to the imagination. But getting proved right was like liquid heat in his veins, and he gave a greedy moan at the display of skin. Pausing with it halfway down, because it was a pain in the ass to remove and Chris figured he was owed a reward for doing this much, he slipped his fingers under the suit and let his fingers scrape along the base of Dave’s cock, feeling it heat and twitch against the pads of his fingers.

KickingAss: Holy _fuck_. Dave’s hand shot out to brace on the leather seat in surprise and pleasure as he rocked back on his haunches, taking a few deep breaths before managing to wrestle his arms free. He closed his eyes as he moved into the touch, feeling lost as to what to do. He’d only been with girls before, but his attraction to Chris was undeniable.

Redmyst: Giving a grin and the good reaction, Chris let his fingers sneak a little farther up the length of Dave’s cock, until he could feel all of it. He was pretty sure he was a bit longer, but Dave was definitely thicker. Giving one quick pump, he grinned as he pulled his hand back free, enjoying the look of lost pleasure on Dave’s face. Good. He should look like that all the time. It suited him better than anything, even the mask. Peeling the wetsuit the rest of the way off, and taking the boots with it, Chris brushed his sweaty bangs out of his face and twisted to offer Dave his back. “Unzip me?”

KickingAss: Nodding his head, Dave moved forward, one hand braced on Chris’ shoulder and the other tugging at the zipper. When his skin was revealed, soft and white, Dave couldn’t help but smooth his hands over it and ease the clinging leather over Chris’ shoulders as he bit hard at the back of his neck. He wanted to see Chris all marked up and his.

Redmyst: A gasp left him at the bite, and Chris just barely managed to stop himself from shivering like this was his first time getting naked with someone. He’d had plenty of others before Dave, but somehow he blew them out of the water. It wasn’t that he was some sort of sex god so much as he just seemed more into it. Like it meant something deeper. Maybe because they were more than just strangers. “Nowhere I can’t hide,” he muttered, tilting a little to let Dave mark where he would. “I don’t want anyone but you to see.”

KickingAss: Dave moved a bit, wanting to face Chris again, fingers sifting through the boy’s hair as he pulled them into a kiss and pushed his hands into the leather. Chris was hard. And it was from him. How awesome was that? It was a bit weird too, holding a cock that wasn’t his own, but it was part of Chris and that was okay. Slowly, he began to move his hands.

Redmyst: Head thumping back against the window, Chris gave himself a second to just enjoy the feeling of a hand on his dick. Of _Daves_ hand, slow but building confidence with every movement. licking his lips and meeting Dave’s eyes head on, he reached out and grabbed his cock right back, giving it his own movements. It felt amazing, to hold him like that and be held, and the pleasure made it a little hard to keep coordinated but he did his best.

KickingAss: Dave was findin it hard to concentrate with Chris looking at him like thart. Giving a loud moan, Dave pushed his hips up and gasped out Chris’ name before pulling him in for a messy kiss.

Redmyst: being pressed together like that made their chests rub and their pumping hands knock into each other, adding more and more contact and friction, and Chris moaned back just as loud int o Daves mouth. normally he could hold out for longer but after all the thrill of patrol and the dave, Chris didnt really feel like it. Instead he bit down on Daves botton lip and pumped faster because wanted to see him come first.

KickingAss: Dave stuttered out a breath.shocing against Chris desperatelt as he closed his eyes and panted. He wanted to hold off his need to come for longer but Chis was wringng it out of him. Giving a choked noise he jerked and then fell against the seats limply as he came against chris hand and his chest.

Redmyst: feeling Dave come apart was perfect and seing him was even better, so Chris gave one last long groan as he came too, painting over his partner’s hand and adding to the mess. flopping sideways against the seat, he panted for breath as he let go of Dave’s dick and dragged him closer to him. Were they hadn’t touched was chilly, after all, and Chris wanted to stay warm in the car. That and Dave just felt good against him and he wasn’t ready to give that up, sticky and sleepy or no.

KickingAss: (bbr)  
KickingAss: (Mmk back. Jesus fuck>)

Redmyst: (Yeah, that was pretty good)  
Redmyst: (Get why people do this now?)

KickingAss: definitely starting to see   
KickingAss: Sorry for the spelling that you probably feel liek cringing 

Redmyst: Dude mine was pretty shitty there for a while too  
Redmyst: It was porn, and typing one handed while the other is moving is hard  
Redmyst: Forgiven  
Redmyst: Now I should probably get to bed soon. It’s late and now I’m tired  
Redmyst: Feel like you got anywhere with the gay thing? 

KickingAss: Kinda, mostly I feel happy cause orgasm. Always good.  
KickingAss: I just wanted to test it out and I feel less panicked, now I just want my bed,

Redmyst: Well you got it  
Redmyst: See you whenever  
Redmyst: Night  
Redmyst went offline at 01:44 AM

***

A few days later found Dave’s thoughts wandering to “Chris” and wondering what he was doing. He was starting to think about him more and more. Hell, he was starting to jerk off to the mental image of him, with his dark hair and white skin and hazel eyes. Yeah, pathetic, right? The vague description in the RP was enough to get him going.

Plus, Dave kept thinking about Red Mist. Now that Chris had jump started his brain, his thoughts kept fixating on the way Red Mist’s hands looked in his gloves. How tight the leather of his suit was... The way his mouth wrapped around the cloying, damp paper of the joint. 

“Hey, here you go, raspberry white mocha with extra whip and chocolate drizzle.”

Looking up at Katie when she put the drink down in front of him, Dave gave her a wan smile and pulled it close, stirring it sullenly before taking a sip. Right now he didn’t feel like being in Atomic Comics, because Chris knew about it, because Chris frequented it. 

Fucking Chris.

He didn’t even know the guy.

“You seem troubled, what’s up?” 

Dave looked up, a faint smile coming over his face at the sight of Katie shimmying her way down the booth seat to sit across from him. She was so pretty but with the thoughts currently plaguing his mind she didn’t seem as radiant as she did when sitting across from him in Chemistry or opening her locker a few rows over from him. “Just thinking. There’s this guy...”

Katie’s eyes lit up with understanding and she nodded her head with a quiet “ohhh” before sipping her mochachino. Dave chomped down on his straw in response, stabbing at the bottom of his tall mug with it in agitation. He took a sip, letting the raspberry flavour burst over his tongue before he pulled his mouth away. “Yeah. Oh.”

Watching as Katie’s hand moved across the table and settled on his wrist, Dave automatically brought up his other hand to rest on top of it. Her skin was warm and soft and it caused a bit of heat to curl inside of him before he pulled his hand away. Patting his wrist in sympathy, Katie sat back in the booth and tapped her fingers over the covers of Neil Gaiman’s _Sandman_ she had collected earlier. 

“Well, if you need to talk about it, or want to talk about it, I’m here. You know, I won’t judge. Like how you didn’t with Rasul. We’re friends like that.” She offered him a bright smile and scraped her nail against the foam of her drink before bringing her finger to her mouth to suck clean. Dave couldn’t help but watch her mouth wrap around the digit and he swallowed heavily. 

“Y-yeah.”

Before he could say much else Marty and Todd clamoured over to the table, bottles of soda and bags of junk in Marty’s arms and a stack of comic’s in Todd’s arms. Todd shoved Dave over in the booth, slapping the new found stack onto the Formica and drew himself up, twisting open a bottle of Fanta. “D’Amico’s here. He’s browsing the Thor comics with his goon.” 

Dave glanced over and watched the rich kid for a long moment before looking away when D’Amico met his eyes. He felt his stomach clench as he realized D’Amico was kinda hot and if you squinted a bit and took away the preppy clothes, he looked in a weird, fucked up, hypothetical way like Red Mist. Kinda. Maybe. Or his brain was officially boiled.

His life officially blew.

***

Kicking his shoes off and yanking his flannel overshirt over his head and tossing it blindly in the direction of his hamper, Dave dropped into his computer chair. He’d spent the time at Atomic Comics quietly stewing as he got secretly judging looks from Todd and Marty and sad eyes from Katie. Pathetic did not even begin to describe him. 

Logging on to his computer and checking the Kick-Ass website for anything overly important - there were a few ‘you rock’ and ‘blow yourself’ messages he deleted without any hesitation - before he decided maybe blowing some stuff up on Diablo II would make himself feel better. Eyeing his taskbar a moment and the silent, calm icon for the messenger, Dave clicked on it, Redmyst was offline, but he sent him a snarky comment about how he was a piece of dickcheese for ‘enlightening’ him since now he couldn’t stop seeing opportunity everywhere. Asshole.

With that done, Dave opened up his video game and pulled on his headphones to kill a few hours and hopefully distract himself from the burning, epic fail boat his life had become.

It was rare he regretted making Kick-Ass a reality, but with looming sexual fantasies about his crime fighting partner thanks to an online world, it was making it hard to think. And remember what was real and what he wanted in his head.

Red Mist was cool. Suave. And a total ladies man. Which meant Dave Lezewski and Kick-Ass were both shit out of luck. 

***

Redmyst: Blah blah blah you’re welcome  
Redmyst: See if I help you get off again with that kind of attitude  
Redmyst: More importantly, I need to talk about this  
Redmyst: I got a rare Thor comic from some absolute cuntbag online  
Redmyst: And they fucking tore it in two, I swear to you  
Redmyst: There are literally pages that are only half there  
Redmyst: Who actually does that? No, really, who? Because I need to shove a knife up their ass  
Redmyst: Stop doing whatever you’re doing and fume with me, dammit! I need to talk to someone who actually understands what an affront this is  
Redmyst: Dave. Daaaaaave 

KickingAss: Send him goddamn anthrax in the mail  
KickingAss: Seriously though, I kind of hate you because now there’s this guy I’ve been wanting to be friends with for a while, but is like unattainable for a variety of reasons and now I keep thinking about him and I hope you feel like a dick. Maybe that Thor comic is the universe telling you to stop being a vagina.  
KickingAss: What issue is it? Maybe I have it 

Redmyst: Doubt it. #179. And it was a first print too.   
Redmyst: Aghhhh everyone needs to dieee  
Redmyst: And don’t even joke. No one deserves this. No one  
Redmyst: Don’t blame me because you’re being a pussy about liking dick  
Redmyst: That’s irony, in case they don’t teach you that in your school  
Redmyst: I actually checked in with Atomic Comics earlier, and they didn’t have it  
Redmyst: Which is kinda good b/c if I could have found it there and I bought it from that fucknugget I would have been another kind of pissed 

KickingAss: Jesus fuck. That’s like... holy grail levels for Thor. How much did he get you for?  
KickingAss: Also, don’t talk to me about Atomic Comics, I was there today with my friends and that chick who I keep trying to score and that guy I’m talking about walked in.  
KickingAss: My life is an epic joke 

Redmyst: Well don’t talk about people behind their back?  
Redmyst: Ah, who am I kidding  
Redmyst: Fucking whisper, at least. Why, what does it matter that some dick walked in?  
Redmyst: And it was like 150, not that bad  
Redmyst: It could have been Journey into Mystery 83, but I’m still pissed as shit  
Redmyst: But, c’mon, I wanna know who’s got your sexuality all in a fucking knot. Literally. What’s he look like? 

KickingAss: It’s not even anything, he just... he has sort of similar features to this guy I’ve been hanging around with. Now my brain hurts.  
KickingAss: So... yeah.

Redmyst: That didn’t answer me question at all  
Redmyst: C’mon, I know even you can manage to string together a goddamn reply. What’s he look like?

KickingAss: Smallish? Def shorter than me. Kinda lanky, man, I’m making him sound horrible.   
KickingAss: He’s got this great smile though, the like, three times I’ve seen it. And really engaging dark eyes.  
KickingAss: And I swear to fuck he’s so pale he glows. 

Redmyst: Okay, dude, you have got to be better than that, because that could be half the guys on there  
Redmyst: Hell, you just described me  
Redmyst: Maybe I’m your mystery boy. Do I make your dick hard, Dave? Hmm? 

KickingAss: ...If I’m being honest you did the other day. Or at least the mental images you were providing  
KickingAss: I doubt it’s you, no offense, you don’t scream of the same saddened, lonely attitude he does. Besides, you made it sound like you don’t go to my school. So there’s that. You do share the same name, though. But he tends to go by the full version, anyway.  
KickingAss: What more do you want? His dick size?  
KickingAss: ...You there? 

Redmyst: Yeah, I’m here  
Redmyst: I just got bored with the shit you were blathering and went to get some food  
Redmyst: Well, any Chris who looks like me has to be a sex god  
Redmyst: Just saying  
Redmyst: But whatever I’m done with this conversation  
Redmyst: You looking to RP or what, because otherwise I have things to do  
Redmyst: I’m a busy guy, after all 

KickingAss: Food sounds like a good idea. I think I have some leftover pizza in the fridge I may heat up. Yay latch key life.  
KickingAss: Actually, brb, gonna grab it. Feel free to mock my food choices since you clearly have enough cash to not need to scrounge.  
KickingAss: Food porn is accepted 

Redmyst: That’s too easy a target even for me  
Redmyst: I say as I eat pasta with shrimp  
Redmyst: Mmmmmmmm seafood-y 

KickingAss: Well you enjoy your expensive food I will enjoy my overly greasy pizza with sausage and feta and peppers. Mmm. Mouth burning.  
KickingAss: We should meet up some time to hang out and buy comics or play games.

Redmyst: Yeah, no, that sounds like a fucking stupid idea  
Redmyst: I already fucking said I want the goddamn anonymity  
Redmyst: Should I define that for you or do you think you can google it fast enough to make me think you knew what I was talking about? 

KickingAss: Jesus Christ, what has a stick up your ass today?  
KickingAss: I was just asking, fuck. Similar interests, dude, it was a legit question  
KickingAss: Whatever. Do what you want. 

Redmyst: I always do  
Redmyst: RP or no?

KickingAss: What did you have in mind, because my dick is kinda chafed right now.

Redmyst: I dunno, something?  
Redmyst: Didn’t really have an idea in mind  
Redmyst: You know what, fuck this  
Redmyst: I don’t even feel like it anymore  
Redmyst: I’m heading off 

KickingAss: Was it something I said? Um... Sorry if I upset you or whatever  
KickingAss: I just had a fucked up day

Redmyst: I  
Redmyst: Fuck  
Redmyst: Look the comic just shat all over my mood like a whore with diarehea  
Redmyst: So I’m going to go blow things up, possibly literally  
Redmyst: Just whatever I’ll see you tomorrow or whenever 

Clicking off of the window, Chris let out a long gust of breath. Fuck. _Fuck_. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t signed up for this at all.

So far as he knew, there was only one Christopher at his school who looked like him. Which meant that Dave had been at Atomic Comics, getting a boner of him without having any idea who he was.

If Chris was better at being who he said he was, that would be great. He’d figure out who Dave was based on who was making goo-goo eyes at him and by his description, and get all this stupid tension out of his system and go back to trying to deal with Kick-Ass like a normal person. But he couldn’t. He just _couldn’t_.

Christopher D’Amico didn’t have friends. He didn’t hang out with people to read comic books together, and he definitely didn’t want to try kissing someone, especially a boy. Because gay porn was safe, and writing stupid gay shit online was safe, but that wasn’t. Chris didn’t even want to think about how hard his dad would flip over that.

But the knowledge was buzzing under his skin, and the more he thought about it the hotter his cheeks got. Not to mention his dick was swelling at an alarming rate.

If he wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation, Chris should just stop. He should change his handle and not get online on that one ever again and just cold shoulder Dave until he forgot all about that weird guy he used to RP gay superheroes with online.

But now that Chris knew he’d never be able to stop wondering. If he did that then he’d think about it and obsess until he tracked down every damn Dave at school and checked for jewfros.

At the moment, though, he wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t think. All the blood was rushing south instead, and he just needed to get rid of that so he could come up with the best course of action. So he slipped out of his room, thankful for how baggy his silk pajamas for and that he knew the best ways to stay out of security's eyes - not that he _cared_ what any of those goons thought - and out to the garage.

It was almost painfully easy to slip into the backseat and sprawl out, just letting himself remember what he and Dave had written. About pulling away Kick-Ass’s mask and seeing the face he imagined Dave to have, flush with need and moaning for him. Just for him. About ripping off that stupid wet suit and pounding him until he was sobbing from the pleasure. About... About having the same thing done to him.

Shoving his hand down the front of his pants, Chris wrapped his hand around himself and started to pump. He came with a speed and pressure that would have been embarrassing had anyone been there to see it. Wiping his hand clean on the fabric, Chris curled up just a little, letting his cheek rest against the leather and breathing in the distinctive scent. Maybe he could have done without the lingering scent of pot, and done with however Kick-Ass or Dave smelled.

Maybe Dave had a point, and he was lonely.

Curling up farther, Chris reached up and grabbed at his hair, holding his breath to keep from doing anything pathetic, like crying.

***

The next day, Chris woke up feeling exactly zero percent better. This was why he hated being emotional. It was stupid and didn’t help anything.

Instead of going onto the chat server, Chris kept himself nice and invisible for now. He’d wait for this to blow over. It had probably just been a stupid momentary thing, like seeing a hot chick and imagining what it would be like to fuck her. And then they’d go back to normal and Chris wouldn’t have to think about it.

But not now. Later. Just not right this minute.

Instead he opened up Kick-Ass’ page and sent him a quick message. Maybe that was a different breed of retarded, but Chris couldn’t just ignore him, after all. And running around the streets of New York City might be exactly what he needed to get rid of some tension. Normally he’d just go train in the room next to Dad’s office, but he really couldn’t meet his father’s eyes at the moment. So this was the next best thing.

Pushing away from the computer so he wouldn’t have to look at the faux-innocent icon of the chat client, Chris made his way into the closet to get ready for school. He always picked out a nice outfit, because he wanted to hammer in how much more he was worth than everyone else there, but this time it was different. This time he spent time really thinking about it. Because now he knew it wasn’t just the pathetic masses looking at him. It was _Dave_.

He spent a minute trying to convince himself that no, he wasn’t acting like a fucking girl. It didn’t work, but it did calm him down enough to finally just get dressed and stomp his way out of his room to grab breakfast before the chauffeur picked him up for school.

Chris had long since mastered masking his expression into calm disdain. Or so he’d thought. As he stared out the window, getting closer to normal, he wondered if he was secretly a joke and everyone could see through him, or if it was just Dave. 

***

Dave needed to learn that waking up five minutes before he needed to leave for school was no longer acceptable. He’d spent three of the five minutes trying to track down his glasses and the last remaining two sniffing for a clean shirt to jam into the jeans he’d slept in. Grabbing two packets of pop tarts, Dave jammed on his shoes and coat before tripping over the porch steps as he grabbed his bike and ran it toward the hill on the end of his street before hopping on to coast down. Managing to steer with his knees as he wrestled off the wrapper, Dave shoved the corner of one pop tart into his mouth before standing on the pedals to bike up hill where he would meet Todd. 

Todd was already standing at the corner of the street and had Marty with him. Marty was lazily rolling back and forth on his rollerblades while Todd told some stupid joke. Tossing Todd a package of pop tarts and getting a can of root beer in return, Dave chugged down the can before patting a belch into submission as he tossed the can into a nearby bin as he and his friends headed off to school.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive, since their neighbourhood was littered with back alleys which thankfully weren’t overrun with scum during the day. Dave coasted his bike into the rack and dropped to his knees beside it to lock it. Pulling his lock out from on top of his Kick-Ass costume, Dave looped it around his tire and then hopped up, pulling out his English homework when he was done. It was tattered since he’d shoved it in his bag, but thankfully completed. He always made sure to have his homework done for Mrs. Zane.

Following his friends into the school halls, bobbing and weaving in the familiar morning dance, he smiled and greeted Katie when he reached her locker, happily taking the one armed hug and kiss on the cheek. Banging the corner of his locker to open it, Dave nodded absently to something Marty was saying as he shoved his bag into his locker and grabbed his binder and textbook. Rooting around on the top shelf of his locker rewarded him with a pen that he clamped between his teeth as he held his locker closed with his foot to pop the lock on.

Waving goodbye to Katie as she spilt off to head to French, Dave shouldered his way between Marty and Todd as they talked about the upcoming Thor movie. It was shooting right now and looked like it was going to be _awesome_. Not to mention Captain America was coming out too. 

It was a good time to be a nerd.

Rounding the corner toward his English room, Dave caught sight of the back of D’Amico’s body guard walking away from them in the halls. He scowled, feeling his good mood sour slightly as he warred with the strange emotions inside of him. Today was going to be a good day and there would be patrolling tonight, which meant Not Thinking About D’Amico. 

Starting right now.

***

Leaning against the cold brick wall of their usual meeting spot, Dave fiddled nervously with his gloves. The day had gone well, with relatively minor blips - a jock asshole calling him out on the gay rumor and mystery meat lunch. Luckily Katie had been there for the former, defending him and running her hands through his hair. Which... The world shouldn’t judge him for popping a boner at. 

But now was time with Red Mist, which was time to kick butt and take names and chew bubblegum and do some seriously Bruce Wayne type shit. Also secret lusting. Which he was not thinking about right now because see above re: Bruce Wayne type shit. 

Bruce Wayne didn’t lust about his partner.

Except when he did in fanfiction.

Fuck you very much, brain.

Kicking off the wall and banging his boots absently against the nearby dumpster, Dave worried his bottom lip. Red Mist had better show up soon, or he was going to look like a tool standing here beside his bike if any thugs showed up. 

***

It was five minutes past the meetup time when Chris pulled into his normal spot, trying and failing to arch a teasing brow at Kick-Ass’ bike. He normally hated to be late, an irritation started from his father’s tendency to get distracted by business in lieu of whatever it was that Chris had dragged him out to do. But it was a miracle he got here as fast as he did, since he’d debated about not coming after all until the last minute.

But he was here now, and Chris leaned back in his seat, as casual as he could manage. Kick-Ass slipped into the passenger side like normal, apparently not bothered at the time. “Have anything good this time?”

“No,” Chris replied, voice slightly short. He was officially done humiliating himself over cats and dogs, and his dad still refused to give him any more staged set-ups until he came back with someone useful. “Unless you have something, then I figured we could just wander around or whatever the fuck.”

Kick-Ass tilted his head, frowning just a little. “Man, if you’d told me that I’d have looked before I left. Whatever. Driving around is better than sitting around with our thumbs in our asses.”

Dammit, did he have to use those words? Thankful that the mask hid his cheeks, because Chris had composure but only so much, he turned the car around and got onto the road. It was only just getting dark now, and there were still plenty of people out and about, so they got a few waves, which Kick-Ass returned and Chris didn’t. He just wasn’t in the mood to deal with that shit at the moment.

For a long while the ride was silent, until Da- _fuck_ , Kick-Ass turned to look at him. “You gunna turn on the music?”

Yet another thing Chris didn’t want to have to deal with. Great. “You fucking do it, I’m not your DJ.”

The suggestion didn’t seem odd to him, but Kick-Ass still stared at him like he’d grown another head, and it took Chris a minute to figure out why. He’d never let anyone touch the radio in this car. But it didn’t seem like such a big deal if Kick-Ass did it. They had pretty similar tastes in music, and he’d probably pick something with a fast beat to pick them up, and... And he was getting attached. He was so goddamn attached. Fuck it all.

But it would be weaker to back out, so Chris just flapped an impatient hand at Kick-Ass until he finally started to fiddle with the iPod, flipping through the songs to look for one that he liked.

It took a while, but Chris finally started to relax a little, with the music and the slight adrenaline from _looking_ for trouble thrumming through his veins. At some point Kick-Ass started to talk, just rambles about things they both liked - recent movies that he wanted to see, comics that had just come out - and soon enough Chris was reluctantly drawn into conversation.

Once the rush of people going home or going out calmed down, the streets were quiet, and Chris found himself more interested in the conversation about whether Chris Evans was going to be a good Captain America or a shitty one (he was a fucking romcom actor, of course he was going to blow). And so after a couple hours of wasted gas, he reached his limit.

“Okay, this is stupid. Either no one is out, we’re missing everyone, or they run like cowards at the sight of the Mistmobile. Do you want to give it up for tonight?” Kick-Ass’ expression fell, and Chris managed not to cringe. Something about that expression just made him feel horrible. Guilty, in a way no one but his dad’s disappointment had ever made him feel. And so Chris started to talk before he’d fully registered the desire to make Kick-Ass feel better. “We can go get pizza and eat it in the car if you promise to actually eat it instead of smearing whatever you eat all over my seats like a fucking monkey with it’s shit.”

Kick-Ass’ expression lightened immediately, and then went mischievous. “Oh, now you want to hang out? Why is it that I’m a girl when I suggest it, but it’s fine from you.”

Rolling his eyes, Chris sneered. “Because you have a fucking vaginia, that’s why. I can drop you off here and make you walk back to your bike, you know.”

Slicking out his tongue, which looked ridiculous with the little mouth slit, Kick-Ass grinned. “I could go for food. You have to pay, though, because I didn’t bring money.”

Well, at least he wasn’t assuming Chris would buy him things because of his dad’s money. Nodding his agreement, he pulled them into the parking lot of the nearest pizza place and ordered a pepperoni to go, because if he was paying for it then Chris wanted something he liked. He had to repeat the order twice, because the cashier was gaping at him like he had brain damage, but at least the slices came out in record time.

Once they got back into the Mistmobile, Chris parked them in an empty parking lot and pulled his out, folding it in half and eating it that way, because he was fucking civilized. But the first bite was scaldingly hot, and he pulled away with a hiss and wished they’d thought to grab drinks.

Kick-Ass, on the other hand, was chowing away like a champ, and Chris stared at him in shock, and just a little because of the way a strand of cheese was clinging to his lips. And the fact that something so stupid was getting him off was frustrating, but now wasn’t the time. So long as he convinced his dick of that. “Dude, do you secretly have powers? Iron Palette Man.”

Laughing, which made him choke a little on the cheese, Kick-Ass shook his head. “Nah, though that’s an awesome name. Might get sued by Marvel though.” He’d already taken off his gloves to eat the pizza, which was another thing Chris was trying not to notice, so Kick-Ass could take his thumb into his mouth and bite down with a force that split the skin. “I got mugged and hit by a car a few weeks ago, and since then my nerves got fucked up. This barely hurts, so some hot cheese isn’t a problem.”

Oh, that was kind of cool. “Yeah, I heard about this one kid who-” Who had the same thing happen. Whose name was Dave. Who, if Chris wasn’t mistaken, was slightly taller than him and had curly brown hair.

Oh. Oh God. It couldn’t be him. Except that it could.

It was a stupid long shot, and Chris wouldn’t have any justification for this later, but that didn’t stop him from reaching across the seats with a sudden gesture. It didn’t stop him from wrapping his hand around the dumb mask, and it definitely didn’t stop him from pulling it up and off, taking a few curly brown hairs with it.

Oh _God_.

Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to pick him out from a crowd, but connected with the rumors about him having messed up nerves and being _gay_ , fuck that was right, but Chris had seen this guy before. At school, and at Atomic Comics. This was Dave... L something.

And he was Kick-Ass. And he was KickingAss.

He was also shocked, but that was quickly turning into something else. “You _asshole_!” Glaring at him with such fury it made Chris freeze up, Kick-Ass ( _Dave_ ) launched himself into the driver’s seat, pinning him against the window. In a move that Chris had fantasised about recently (but never like this), Dave reached up and yanked the mask and fake hair off, tossing them into the backseat like garbage.

Chris could tell the exact moment that Dave recognized him, because all that anger melted away into pure shock. “Holy shit.”

No fucking kidding.

Licking his lips, Chris took a deep breath in and then out, trying to think of something to say. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t what he’d decided in his head. “You’re leaning in the pizza.”

“Fuck!” Pulling back, Dave yanked the slice off his suit and glared down at the greasy triangle it left. “Well, fan-fucking-tastic. Today officially can’t get any shittier.”

Before he could control himself again, Chris sneered. “You literally don’t even know the half of it.”

That earned him another glare, just as fierce as the first. “Yeah? How’s that?”

Oh, shit. Chris didn’t want Dave to know who else he was. It was too fucking surreal. But when he stayed quiet, there was a low noise like a growl, and suddenly he was shoved back hard into the door. It probably hadn’t been designed to hurt him, but Chris wasn’t good at dealing with real physical violence on his person, and so he fell backward with all the grace of a bag of potatoes, smacking his head hard on the window.

The pain made him gasp, and in a moment all his dad’s talks about how to clam up under pain came back to him. But they were blown away by all the memories he had of listening to people beg him rather than give the information he wanted, and what Chris had learned from that was it was better to talk while you still had all your fingers.

“I’m Redmyst!” He managed to gasp out, and then rolled his eyes when Dave just gave him a ‘duh’ look. “One word. With a ‘y’.”

This time Dave’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Holding out his arms in a ‘what do you want me to do’ kind of gesture, Chris just shrugged. “I know, man.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah.”

***

What the fuck was Dave supposed to do with that information. Terror and want filled up inside of him at alarming rates as he realized Chris knew _everything_. Chris knew he wanted him. Chris knew he fantasized about him. And Chris knew he was having a sexuality crisis that _he_ was responsible for. Giving a hysterical laugh, Dave bowed over himself, tucking his face against his knees as he tried to breathe. 

“Um...” Chris ventured ineloquently. “You okay, dude?”

Dave answered him with a moan of pity and another hysterical giggle. This day had officially reached its peak on the shit-o-meter. “I am so far past okay I can’t...” Dave started to say before lifting his head to look at Chris and shake his head with a muffled noise. 

Chris looked so tiny, pressed back against the door, watching him with wide, slightly uncertain eyes. He looked different than the confident Red Mist and the cocky D’Amico. He looked like the lonely teenager Dave had pictured him being and it felt like his world was collapsing in on itself. What the fuck was he supposed to do at barely seventeen when faced with a situation like this?

D’Amico’s father was a goddamn _crime lord_. It wasn’t really anything anyone talked about but it was something they all knew. Did Chris’ dad know he was Red Mist? Did Chris’ dad know he was gay? 

Fucking fuck fuck!

Before he could stop himself, Dave bolted forward in his seat, fuelled by pure panic. His hand grabbed at the back of Chris’ head as he hauled him in and smashed their lips together. It was graceless and kind of painful, okay really painful, but he was probably going to die soon and he wanted to do this at least once. Chris tasted like the pizza they had been sharing and had undertones of a strong, minty gum. 

He remained like that for a long moment, pressing their mouths together in clumsy awkwardness before he realized just what the fuck he was doing and who he was doing it with before he pulled back. He watched Chris’ face with wide eyes, panting in a mixture of fear and want before his autopilot kicked on. Before he could think about much else, Dave shoved the mask over his head and was out of the Mistmobile and running.

He bolted as fast as he could through side streets and alleys, trying to put as much distance between himself and Chris as possible. Before he realized it, Dave found himself back in his neighbourhood. He’d run a million blocks and left his bike somewhere to get jacked, but he really didn’t care. 

Sneaking his way inside, Dave locked himself in his room and closed his blinds before wrestling his way out of his clothes and into pajamas. He paced a circle in his room before grabbing his phone and sending a panicked, half-true text to Katie; telling her he’d forgotten his bike and that he’d kissed _the_ guy and fuck it was awesome and terrifying and then he ran home.

Once he hit the send button, Dave stretched out on his bed, laying his phone on his chest as he pulled on his glasses and watched America’s Next Top Model, because he was that pathetic. Also Katie got him hooked. Lifting his head when his phone buzzed, Dave thumbed it open.

_dnt worry, will grab bike, tell me evthg 2mrw_

Breathing out a sigh of relief that his bike would be saved, Dave tucked his phone away and rolled onto his side, peering at his computer. Ironically, the first thing he thought of doing was messaging Chris. Masochism really was his middle name. 

Pulling himself off the bed, Dave logged on and checked his email before going to Kick-Ass’s website. With a bit of deflation, Dave scrolled through all the saved messages from Red Mist, reading them over in a new light now that he knew the man behind the mask. They still made him smile and they dragged up good memories, but at the same time they stirred an awful twist in his gut and fire over his nerves.

Stupidly, Dave opened his chat name and looked for the familiar handle. Obviously Chris wasn’t online, but he clicked on the name anyway and sat there for a long moment with his hands resting over the keys.

KickingAss: Chris... I’m sorry dude.  
KickingAss: Fuck, this is so fucked up, I can’t even begin to imagine what you think of me  
KickingAss: You probably aren’t going to read these or ever talk to me again, but yeah, just wanted to say sorry.  
KickingAss: Um... I’ll see you around, maybe, at school, or whatever. It was nice knowing you and chatting with you and... making your life really awkward. Oh, and fighting crime.  
KickingAss: So... Maybe I’ll see you at school. Unless you have me murdered or something.  
KickingAss: K...   
KickingAss went idle at 12:17 AM

Staring at the screen, Dave grumbled to himself before opening up a youtube playlist and pulled off his glasses as he made his way toward his bed to crash on it face first, pull the covers over his head, and call in sick the next day.

***

Redmyst: Oh, no  
Redmyst: You don’t get to fucking be all contrite and shit  
Redmyst: You are going to sit there and be a fucking dickweed until I’m finished with you  
Redmyst: And then you’ll go and cry in your bed like a little girl  
Redmyst: Because that shit was _unfuckingacceptable_  
Redmyst: Fucking coward, running away like that  
Redmyst: You are a gigantic POS. More than the fucking Zelda owl  
Redmyst: YOU ARE WORSE THAN THE ZELDA OWL  
Redmyst: YOU ARE WORSE THAN THE GUY WHO RIPPED MY THOR COMIC  
Redmyst: YOU ARE WORSE THAN FUCKING  
Redmyst: FUCKING FUCK  
Redmyst: Ugh goddammit at least get online so I can yell at you instead of your icon  
Redmyst: I hate you so fucking much you don’t even know 

KickingAss returned at 7:21 AM

KickingAss: I hate me so fucking much right now so join the goddamn club  
KickingAss: There’s a tear in my mask now, thanks, you douchebagel of a douche  
KickingAss: _I’m_ the piece of shit? Really? YOU KNEW IT WAS ME.  
KickingAss: YOU ARE WORSE THAN NAVI, DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME.  
KickingAss: Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go leave a message impersonating my father on the school’s machine so I don’t have to see your shitty face 

Redmyst: I didn’t know!  
Redmyst: You’re the one who told me about your fucked up nerves!  
Redmyst: Everyone in school’s heard about that like a million times now  
Redmyst: Even me  
Redmyst: Fuck, ignore that part  
Redmyst: But otherwise I would have had no idea I would have gone about my day just fucking FINE  
Redmyst: And I wasn’t the one who fucking ran out with my tail between my legs like a pussy bitch  
Redmyst: So you don’t get to skip school. I’LL skip school and you go suffer through AP Chemistry so ha 

KickingAss: Too late. Now you have to come to my house if you want to see me suffering.  
KickingAss: Try and find me, bitch  
KickingAss: I THOUGHT YOU WENT TO A DIFFERENT SCHOOL. FUCK I HOPE YOU STEP ON A LEGO AND GET GANGRENE. 

Redmyst: You realize the school has a directory, don’t you? Try to be less of a retard if you can  
Redmyst: I can go to your house anytime I fucking want  
Redmyst: Or I can call you too  
Redmyst: Proof in 3...2...1... 

KickingAss: I’M NOT ANSWERING THAT.  
KickingAss: Oh. Nevermind. Hang up, then.  
KickingAss: Fuck you too.   
KickingAss: So you heard all about my whole naked in an alley, rent boy mugging story, good for you. Now go away. 

Redmyst: Okay, for the record that rumor is like 600 times funnier now that I know you were probably trying to stop them as Kick-Ass  
Redmyst: Just so you can stew in that for a little while  
Redmyst: I’m not going away. Not until this is resolved  
Redmyst: Via you crying into your pillow like a little girl  
Redmyst: You dick 

KickingAss: Well not all of us can probably stage our captures with our daddy’s blood money  
KickingAss: Some of us actually do this for a reason

Redmyst: Shut the _fuck_ up about my dad. This isn’t about him  
Redmyst: I swear I will fucking come over there and punch you in the face if you talk about him

KickingAss: I’d like to see you try, D’Amico. I will make you cry like the pussy you are  
KickingAss: For the record, hard to make me hurt when I can’t feel a thing

Redmyst: I know how to cut of your fingers, asswipe  
Redmyst: For someone who thinks so lowly of my dad, you sure seem pretty damn confident that he didn’t teach me what he knows  
Redmyst: Assuming he does those things people say he does  
Redmyst: Which I will neither confirm nor deny 

KickingAss: I don’t give a shit.   
KickingAss: You don’t even have a _weapon_ for christ sake. And you have that froofy cape and that STUPID WIG

Redmyst: TAKE IT BACK ABOUT THE WIG  
Redmyst: THE WIG IS AWESOME  
Redmyst: YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING BALD-ASS BABY WITH YOUR MASK ON  
Redmyst: YOU POS SECOND RATE LEPERACHAN  
Redmyst: JENNIFER ANISTON WOULDN’T AGREE TO DO A MOVIE WITH YOU  
Redmyst: THAT’S HOW MUCH YOU SUCK COMPARED TO EVEN OTHER LEPRECHAUNS 

KickingAss: YOU PIECE OF SHIT TAKE THAT BACK  
KickingAss: I AM A FIERCE, FIREY MACHINE  
KickingAss: I DON’T NEED A FUCKING CAR TO GET ME PUSSY  
KickingAss: SO THERE 

Redmyst: OH PLEASE  
Redmyst: LIKE YOU RANK HIGH ENOUGH TO SO MUCH AS TOUCH A TIT  
Redmyst: I KNOW EXACTLY HOW CLOSE YOU ARE TO DIRT, YOU SHIT 

KickingAss: CLOSER THAN YOU.  
KickingAss: UNLESS YOU’RE STILL BEING BREASTFED  
KickingAss: AT LEAST I HAVE FRIENDS 

Redmyst: I  
Redmyst: FUCK  
Redmyst went idle at 7:37 AM

Only took a quick yell to his mom to tell her he was feeling sick and that he’d be missing school. She just poked her head in and asked if Chris wanted anything, her poor baby. It was all he could do not to start yelling at her and groan in apparent misery instead, until she finally left to cancel the chauffeur and go do whatever it was she did out of the house while he was at school. Something to improve the family reputation or some shit, maybe.

After that, he just ran past security like it was a normal school day, except he took one of Dad’s less noticeable cars and drove himself off, taking a right when he should have taken a left. As it turned out, Dave lived at 4 miles away, and he was actually closer to Atomic Comics then Chris was.

The fucking piece of shit.

Fifteen minutes later, Chris was parked in front of the door that the directory said was Dave’s. Rather than knock, he just kicked as hard as he could at the wood. It banged loudly but didn’t give like he wanted, and instead Chris hobbled around for a moment, cursing furiously at his throbbing toe. Until he heard the sound of footsteps, and he made himself stop it, still wincing.

Chris was prepared to jump Dave the second he opened the door, but instead a hand reached outside and yanked him in. The place was tiny and dank and dirty compared to what he was used but, but Chris hardly noticed and he definitely didn’t care. Not when he was being slammed against the wall and Dave’s face was an inch from his. “I thought you were going to make me cry, D’Amico. I’m waiting.”

“Fuck you!” He finally managed to get a good hit on Dave’s shoulder, but he hardly seemed to notice other than to shift his grip. _Shit_. “You fucking cheating ass ho.”

Dave just laughed, like this was fucking funny, except that his eyes didn’t look any friendlier. They were just sparking like they were on fire, and heat sparking under Chris’ skin flared in response. “I’m not the goddamn cheater here, asshole. How many of those jobs were made by daddy, huh? Maybe he doesn’t even trust you to catch a fucking cat on his own.”

Snarling wordlessly, Chris kicked out like he had with the door, and managed to get Dave in the nuts. Part of him was slightly ashamed, because that was basically never okay, but he was too pleased to see Dave actually wheeze with pain. “I’d think you’d be grateful. At least it’s a pussy that doesn’t think you’re strictly dickly.”

Chris was too busy feeling smug in his smile victory to be prepared for Dave grabbing the front of his button down and throwing him to the floor. Reflexes honed by training, albeit on dummies and equipment and never anything that hurt him back, kicked in, and Chris twisted on the floor, sweeping Dave’s feet out from under him in a textbook perfect move. Except for the fact that the dummies always fell backward, and Dave fell forward, right on top of him.

For a long moment, everything was just a mess of scratching and scrambling and elbows in uncomfortable places against an even more uncomfortable floor, and then there were lips against his and all the fight in Chris focused on that one point of contact. Dave met him bite for bite, and soon their lips were bloody, but he didn’t even care because he was burning up, and Dave was heat and heavy on top of him and all he wanted was more forever.

Finally, Dave picked his head up, mouth smeared with blood, and Chris couldn’t resist following him up to lick it clean with a long lap of his tongue. It tasted like copper and anger and sex, and he realized almost belatedly that he was achingly hard. Both of them were, actually. Dave’s mouth stayed open, lips red and swollen even cleared, and he stared at Chris for a long moment. “My room’s upstairs.”

“Want to get off first,” Chris’ tone was absolutely not a whine, no matter how it sounded when his voice echoed back to him in the tiny kitchen. Above him, Dave groaned and gave a sharp buck, like he wasn’t able to control himself at all, and that was fucking hot as hell, so Chris moaned back and arched back up into him.

From there it was all grinding and uncoordinated groans. Sometimes they were kissing and sometimes they were both just focused on the feeling of friction. It wasn’t enough, so Chris yanked off Dave’s stupid pajama bottoms and popped open his own fly until he could free himself. That was a lot less comfortable than he’d expected, because the skin stuck together in ways that wasn’t really good. But it was also _amazing_ , especially when Dave finally spat into his hands and wrapped a hand around both of them, leaving Chris to moan and buck up and palm over Dave’s ass to push him down into him.

Irritatingly, it was Chris who came first, but at least Dave followed closely behind. For a second they just sprawled out there, sticky and wet and gross in all sorts of way, but Chris never wanted to move ever again.

But eventually Dave’s weight was just heavy instead of hot, and the drying come between them was pulling in ways that were uncomfortable and painful and never in the stories he read online. Which meant it was probably time to get up. “You said something about a room?”

Pulling away, which made them both wince at the pull of skin, even if Dave probably couldn’t feel it right, Chris sat up and slowly made his way to feet. Now he was starting self-conscious, comparing his pale skin and gangly limbs to Dave’s... well, slightly more tanned skin and somehow not as skinny arms, despite being freakishly tall.

For a second Dave stood there like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, and then he tilted his head at Chris, the gesture familiar from all the times they’d spent in the car together. “You really didn’t know?”

Chris shook his head.

Apparently that meant something, because Dave reached out and took Chris’ hand, leading him up the stairs to his room.

And apparently that meant something to Chris, because he couldn't even bring himself to tease Dave for being a girl.

**Author's Note:**

> Scenes from Chris' POV are written by myself, and those from Dave's POV are Setos_Puppy's. RPing as characters RPing is more fun than it sounds, especially when they're not that good at at. The chat style is stolen from the Homestuck skin, because it's for that purpose and I'm a lazy bitch.
> 
> To the people who follow me for TW: There's a fic I'm currently writing, although at a slow pace b/c school and this. There's also a Harry Potter one that's Neville/Harry if anyone's interested in that


End file.
